


Around the Fire

by CreamEgg



Category: The Witch (2016)
Genre: F/F, Multi, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25966762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamEgg/pseuds/CreamEgg
Summary: Thomasin has sexual congress with the witches.
Relationships: Thomasin/The Witch Coven (The Witch)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Femslash After Dark 2020





	Around the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



There are six of them arrayed around Thomasin: six witches. They all look young and beautiful—more beautiful than Thomasin, but only a little older. One of them has long hair that’s blonde and hangs down to her elbows. Another one has red hair tied up in a knot. One of the dark-haired witches wears her hair in a braid, but the one that Thomasin thinks of as her witch wears her dark hair tonight spread out over her shoulders. It’s as dark as the night, as the pupil of Black Philip’s eye. 

“Are you ready, Thomasin,” that witch says. She bats her eyes and taps Thomasin’s chin, which makes Thomasin go hot all over, flushed, probably bright red. The touch of the witch on Thomasin’s chin feels forbidden. This is what her father was so worried about. This was the beginning of sexual congress.

Thomasin was about to have sexual congress with witches. What would her father think if he saw her now? Very little, obviously, since he was dead. He could stare at her with dead eyes fallen open, his dead tongue lolling out of his mouth. The thought pleased Thomasin. Her father, dead, food for crows and chickens and worms. Her mother, dead too, bloody where a crow had plucked at her breast.

These witches had breasts. Thomasin could see them, because the witches had taken off all their clothes a while ago in order to enter the clearing, and so now they were all naked just like she was, dancing around the fire in their bare feet or just standing and watching her with dark eyes that caught. There were pink circles in the centers, just like on Thomasin’s own. The witches had lips to kiss her with, like a boy would have kissed her, only she would have no boys, only these witches, blonde and brunette and redhead.

That had hair between their legs, like Thomasin had begun to grow, but thicker and bushier and fuller. The blonde witch had dark blonde hair between her legs, like Thomasin, and the redheaded witch had reddish hair, and all the dark-headed witches had dark hire that grew to hide their sex.

They all had navels, too. That meant they’d been born of human women. Thomasin had wondered about that. They’d all come into the world wet and bloody, maybe screaming, with hair on their heads or not, trailing the wet rope of life that connected them to their human mothers. Now that connection was only a dimple in each of their bellies, all that was left to prove that they were human and not demon-born, or born of eggs, or grown in some demon’s graden, or called out of the mist, or risen up with the vapor that came up on a cold morning from fresh piles of sheep excrement. Or maybe they had, each one born of a different strange, inhuman source, and the navels were just part of the facsimile, as everyone knew that the demons of hell tried to mimic mankind as much as they could. It was hard to tell.

The redheaded witch flew over the fire to Thomasin. “I’m going to kiss you,” she said. She kissed Thomasin with her mouth and cupped Thomasin’s ears with her hands, a sensual touch like Thomasin had never known. It made shivers run all through her, and heat, too, like the fire warming her on the outside and also the inside, in her sex.

The blonde witch came over smiling. She put her hand between Thomasin’s legs. She wiped along the places that were hot and patted the places that were hair. Then she stuck her finger in Thomasin, into her sex. “Oh,” Thomasin said.

“You’re very good,” the witch said. She stroked Thomasin’s ear again, all along the shell. Then she pinched the lobe between her thumb and forefinger and she prodded Thomasin’s sex with two fingers of her other hand. “You’ve going to have such fun,” the witch said. “What do you want?”

Bewildered, Thomasin said, “I want to have sexual congress with you. With all of you.” There were six witches, and so far all she’d had was one witch’s fingers in her sex and another tapping her on the chin.

“Of course, lovey,” said the dark-haired witch with the braid. She kissed Thomasin on the mouth and nibbled on her lips, with Thomasin’s lower lip between her teeth. She rubbed Thomasin’s left breast.

There was another finger pushing into Thomasin in a new place—the place where the shit came out. “Mm?” she mumbled, because the dark-haired witch with the braid was still kissing her.

“It’s all right,” said another witch. That was Thomasin’s witch, the one that had brought her. She’d put her finger up Thomasin’s arse, which was confusing. 

“Mm mm mm,” Thomasin said, which meant “You’ll get dirty.”

“It’s all right, the witch said again, wriggling her finger inside Thomasin’s arse like a bony worm. 

“Now now,” said one of the other dark-haired witches. She took one of Thomasin’s breasts in her mouth like she meant to suck on it, like Thomasin’s baby brother had sucked at her mother’s tit. Thomas hoped the witch wasn’t actually a crow jabbing Thomasin’s breast with her beak. For that matter, she hoped the finger up her arse wasn’t a crow, too. Really she hoped all the witches weren’t crows.

“You’re going to like it,” one of the witches said. Thomasin forgot which one. She was lost in waves of pleasure now, with hands on her everywhere, it seemed like, and mouths on her everywhere. One of the witches was still stroking her ear, and there were fingers in lots of places. There was a finger in her mouth, too, for suckling or maybe tasting. 

She only became a witch for butter and a nice dress, but this was better than either of those things. She didn’t even need a dress for this at all.

“You’re doing good, lovey,” said a witch, and something twitched inside Thomasin, and then clenched up with pleasure. It was the best thing she ever felt.


End file.
